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  Ship of Fools 
 by Neena  

 

  

...And eight years later it still made Wilson chuckle. 

As House played out the last few chords, their eyes met, sharing the
memories the song always brought to the surface. But even though there was
a smile on his face, House's eyes looked stark, and the furrowing of his
brow suggested that the pain in his leg had encroached on his enjoyment of
the song. The familiar rattling of House's pill bottle was a sad reminder
of just how much had changed since that night so long ago. 

Wilson said nothing about the painkiller House popped into his mouth. He
hated nagging him about the pills almost as much as House hated being
nagged. And tonight had almost been perfect--the first time since Stacy
had left that his friend had shown some sign that he was emerging from his
self-imposed misery. 

The evening soon drew to a close, with House retiring early to get a
decent night's sleep. Wilson cleared away his pathetic excuse of a meal
and made up the couch to go to bed. It was the one thing he truly hated
about crashing at House's place--the damn couch. It was too short for him,
which wouldn't be so bad if it was only for one night. But two weeks
without being able to stretch out his legs...it was almost enough to make
him want to move out. Almost. 

Getting as comfortable as possible, Wilson settled into his makeshift bed
and dragged his satchel closer. He rummaged through it and pulled out his
journal. Julie had given it to him a year ago on his birthday and had
insisted he write in it every night. Somehow she thought it might help
their marriage. He hated it at first, but after a few weeks, he actually
found it helped him cope with things. It hadn't done a damn bit of good
keeping his marriage intact, but it had kept him sane through it all. He
was just starting to write when he heard a noise behind him. 

That was when Wilson made his first mistake. Startled by the sound, he
quickly shoved the journal back into his satchel. By the time he realized
how suspicious that might look, it was too late; House limped into view,
evil glee lighting up his face. 

"Dear Diary...Nervous about meeting J. tonight..." said House. 

"Huh?" 

"'Twin Peaks'. Laura Palmer's diary..." House explained. Wilson simply
stared blankly back at him. "Never mind--you had to be there. So... What
deep, dark secrets could the saintly Dr. James Wilson possible have to
write about?" 

"None," said Wilson. "And it's not a diary, it's a personal journal." 

"My mistake. There's nothing at all girly about having a personal
journal," said House as he headed into the kitchen. He emerged a minute
later with a glass of water in his hand. 

"You're never gonna let this go, are you?" asked Wilson, upon seeing the
devious leer on his friend's face. 

"Oh, no--this is too good," House replied. "So unless you've got something
more interesting up your sleeve, you should expect to be teased
mercilessly for at least a month." 

And that was when Wilson made his second mistake. "How about this?" he
said. "I stopped by diagnostics tonight after you left--are you aware that
your crew are planning an April Fool's Day mutiny?" 

House's eyes narrowed and he smiled that distant smile of his, which meant
his mind was in overdrive. Wilson had seen that look many times before,
and he feared the worst for House's team. Their boss would not rest until
he uncovered their plan, and Wilson feared that this time the body count
was going to be high.  
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the
ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement
nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the
show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.  


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